


The Deepest Note is the Cobalt Sky

by JadeLotus (Lotusflower85)



Series: A Year in the Life [8]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: New Republic Era - All Media Types
Genre: (it gets everywhere), F/M, a creation myth, a holofilm star, an old flame, i.e. more celestials, sandy sexytimes, the other space australia, two beaches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 21:11:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12219045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lotusflower85/pseuds/JadeLotus
Summary: On furlough, Luke and Mara visit Antipodea, planet of beaches (and drunkards).





	The Deepest Note is the Cobalt Sky

 

The beach was beautiful, Mara couldn’t deny that.  A long, wide stretch of pristine white sand, warm and soft beneath her feet.  Clear blue water lapped gently on the shore and extended out to the horizon, tinged purple and red in places from the coral beneath.  The sun beat down on them but it was not unduly harsh, although the heat it added to her skin made the water enticing.  

What gave her pause was the people.  The beach was littered with them - tourist and locals alike, of all ages and races and species; in lounge chairs and hammocks, lying on towels or under umbrellas.  Others were walking along the water’s edge, dipping their feet in the tide and others were swimming, breathing and sight apparatus attached to their faces so they could traverse the reef to view the coral and exotic fish just under the surface.  

Even more were clustered around the bar which had been set up halfway down the beach, where the staff were all wide, toothy smiles as they mixed a variety of cocktails loaded with alcohol, ice, and local fruit.  Jubilant music emanated from speakers attached to the bar’s roof, and a few danced somewhat out of time with the music, occasionally sloshing their drinks onto the sand.      

“Great idea, Farmboy.”  Mara surveyed the assorted group of intoxicated patrons from her beach chair.  “Bring your pregnant wife to the planet of the drunkards.”

Luke scratched the side of his neck absently.  “ _Come to beautiful Antipodea_ , the brochure said.   _Stunning beaches, unique fauna, friendly locals_.”

“They’re friendly, alright.”  Mara lifted her sunglasses as two bikini clad women stumbled past her, drinks in hand and laughing uncontrollably.  “And I thought Tatooine was uncivilized.”

“Relax, Mara,” Luke leaned back in his chair and adjusted his straw hat.  “Everyone else is.”

“Everyone else is drunk,” Mara shot back, glancing longingly at the bar where one patron was enjoying a glass of iced whiskey.  

“I’m not,” Luke pointed out.  

“You can have a drink if you want to,” Mara told him, rubbing the slight curve of her belly.  “No need to abstain simply in solidarity.”  

“It’s alright.”  Luke rested his head back on the chair.  “The sun is enough for me.”

Mara wished she could say the same, but she’d never found crowds particularly relaxing.  They were useful as a cover, but Karrde had only given them a few day’s leave and she didn’t want to spend it in a group of strangers.  

“I’m going to go walk by the water,” Mara declared, hoping to shake the restless feeling.  

“Want me to come with you?”

She looked back at Luke in his chair, eyes closed and soaking up the sun like a desert lizard.  “No,” she said with a smile.  “It’s alright.”  

The soft, undulating sand soon turned firm under her feet as she passed through the ridge of beach still damp from the morning tide.  She lifted her loose skirt as she reached the water line, the ocean calm and lapping gently around her ankles.  Mara took a deep breath and tried to block out the noise around her; shrieks of delight from children as they splashed each other in the surf, the distant sounds of music and revelry from the bar, conversations of couples as they walked along the beach behind her.  

Minutes passed and she was unsuccessful, the beauty and peace of the beach and endless ocean before her marred by the crowds.  She rubbed her belly again in what had already become habit.  Luke had kept his promise, taking a sabbatical from the Academy while she finished up with Karrde’s organisation.  Unfortunately the _Jade Sabre_ was in dock for repairs following a skirmish in Hutt Space, and they’d been forced to bunk on the _Wild Karrde_.  

It had been a long time since either of them had been confined to such close quarters, an issue amplified by the seeming inability to find any time to themselves.  Luke had commented irritably one night that as much as he liked her crewmates, he didn’t much care for them as an audience.  Mara had picked a fight with Aves who’d made one lewd comment too many, and Karrde had ordered them to take a few days furlough.  

The experience had solidified her choice to extract herself from Karrde’s organisation - it wasn’t a fit for her anymore.  She’d made a promise to Luke to help him at the Academy once the baby was born, but despite still taking pleasure in her trading work she was looking forward to settling down and establishing some roots.  Even it it was on that steam terrarium Yavin 4.  

Mara turned and made her way back up the beach, thinking perhaps a little sun nap might relax her.  But when she reached her chair she found it occupied by a woman chatting amicably with Luke.  

“Ah, Mara.”  Luke lept out of his chair as she approached, guiding her to sit down in his place.  “This is Zelia Faraday.”

Mara regarded the woman; from her perfectly symmetrical face to wavy blonde hair and small button nose that gave her the appearance of cuteness despite likely being her contemporary in age.  She was wearing a bright blue swimsuit which showed off her figure, and a white translucent kaftan with delicate embroidery that indicated the quality of the garment.

“We’ve met,” Mara reminded him, and Zelia gave her a broad smile.  

“That’s right,” she said, her Coruscanti accent a touch crisper than Mara’s own.  “At Rogue Squadron’s Midwinter party.  What a coincidence to run into you both again.”

“Is it?” Mara asked coolly, trying and failing to keep her jealousy from flaring.  

Luke squeezed her shoulder slightly.  “Zelia was just telling me her good news - she’s engaged.”

Mara’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.  “Really?  Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Zelia enthused, touching the diamond star hanging from a gold chain around her neck.  “This is Crístiôr’s homeworld, and we’ve stopped here to relax for a few days before meeting his family.  Ah, there he is now with my drink.”  She raised her hand to wave over a tall, broad-shouldered man, with blonde hair and skin tanned by the sun.   

“Crís, darling,” Zelia said as he approached and handed her a glass of fizzy wine.  “This is-”

“Luke Skywalker!” Crístiôr stepped forward to shake Luke’s hand, pumping it up and down enthusiastically.  “It’s an honour, mate.”

He spoke with a broad accent which matched those of the locals she’d already met.  It was similar to one she’d heard long ago, from an aging clone solider from the wars, and had some tonal overlap with the accent of the Pantorans, but Mara had decided that it was still quite unique.  If it a little grating.    

“Have we met before?” Luke asked as Crístiôr finally let go of his hand.  “You seem familiar.”

Crístiôr laughed and slapped Luke on the back.  “No, but I feel comfortable saying I know you very well.”

“Stop being coy,” Zelia reached for Crístiôr’s hand and drew him back to her side.  “Crís is an actor, Luke.  Surely you know about the holothrillers based on your exploits.”

_Of course_ , Mara thought to herself.  The accent had thrown her off, but the man before her was indeed the actor in the set of holos she’d bought Luke as a Midwinter gift, and they’d had fun together tearing apart.  It was actually quite comical, seeing them next to each other looking nothing alike.  Crístiôr was taller and broader, but while he seemed charming enough he didn’t have Luke’s radiance or depth.  However Mara conceded that she was biased and had no doubt the man regularly topped those nonsense lists of most desireable celebrities.  

“I’d love to pick your brain, Luke,” Crístiôr said seriously.  “Really get inside your head, find out what makes you tick.”

“Darling, I’m sure he doesn’t want to bother with that,” Zelia tugged lightly on his hand.  “I know _your_ favourite hobby is to spend all day talking about yourself, but it’s not Luke’s.”

Crístiôr laughed heartily.  “That’s why I love this woman,” he flashed them another wide grin.  “She gets me.”

Mara had to shield her eyes from the sun to look up at him, trying to reconcile the man in the holos with her flesh and blood husband.  “We’ve actually seen some of your work, Crístiôr,” she said slyly, recalling some of the finer details of the holos they’d watched.

“Call me Crís.”  He crouched down in the sand next to Zelia so Mara didn’t have to crane her neck.  

“Crís,” she smiled.  “It must be a relief to get out of those tight pants they make you wear.”

Luke cleared his throat uncomfortably.  “Mara.”

“Nah, that’s alright,” Crís winked at her.  “Something we chuck in to keep the audience happy.”

“Actually, I was going to say that it’s one thing those holos actually get right.”

Crís gave another deep laugh, and shook a lazy finger at her.  “I like you, luv.  Why don’t you tell me what else you enjoyed about my performance.”

“You see.”  Zelia smacked him lightly in the arm before turning back to Mara.  “Such a glory-hound.  You’ve watched the holos, then?”

“Sheer morbid curiosity,” Mara gave a shrug of her shoulders.  

“Nothing compared to your exploits of course,” Crís, whose grin appeared to be fixed on his face.  “Not exactly hard yakka, but people seem to like ‘em.”

“I have to say, I was impressed by your fighting style,” Luke said, and she could feel his unease lessen.  “Mara’s cynical, she thinks it’s all clever editing.”

“Nah, it’s all me, mate.” Crís winked at Mara again.  “100%”

“Stop being such a flirt Crís,” Zelia rolled her eyes.  “Why don’t you buy Luke a drink and he can give you some advice about Jedi humility.”

Crís laughed again, and Mara wondered if there was anything he didn’t find amusing.

“What a good idea,”  He kissed Zelia on the cheek and then turned to Luke, gesturing towards the bar.  “Best beer flight in the galaxy.”

Mara shifted slightly in her seat, and Luke squeezed her shoulder again in comfort - she loved a good craft beer.  But she pushed back at him through their bond, urging him to go and enjoy himself.    

“Well if that’s the case how can I resist?”

“You won’t be disappointed.” Crís put his arm around Luke and led him towards the bar. “We take beer very seriously here.”

When they were gone Mara turned back to Zelia, who was smiling with no apparent ill will.  “I’m glad it’s just us girls,” she said, leaning forward conspiratorially.  “We didn’t get a chance to talk at Midwinter.”

“So you do remember.”

“You mean you pulling Luke away for an interlude outside and returning both happy indeed?”  She gave a pearly laugh.  “How could I forget.”

Mara smirked at the memory.  “And now you’re marrying the man who pretends to be Luke for a living.”

“I can see why you would think that.”  Zelia’s amusement dipped slightly.  “But you can plainly see they could not be more different.”    

“What about his co-star?” Mara asked, her thoughts turning to the intimate scenes Crís had shared with the actress playing herself.  “Not afraid of life imitating art?”

“No.”  Zelia took a sip of her wine with a light shrug.  “They can’t stand the sight of each other.”

“I hated Luke once, too,” Mara pointed out.

“Yes, but I suspect not in the same way.” Zelia pulled her sunglasses down her nose and looked over the rims, a gleam in her blue eyes.  “Really, Mara, where does this jealousy come from?”

Mara bristled slightly.  “What can I say, I’m proprietary.”  

Zelia threw her head back and laughed.  “Honestly, Mara, Luke and I had a two-week fling three years ago,” she said.  “Believe me, I’m not pining over him.”  She appraised her thoughtfully, and Mara held the woman’s gaze, not quite ready to back down.

“Loving Luke as you do it must be difficult to image any other woman giving him up,” Zelia added softly.  “But some things are meant to be, and so others must be fleeting to make way for fate.”

“If you believe in that sort of thing,” Mara said dryly, not quite ready to admit that the woman was growing on her.  

“I do,” Zelia said, exuding warmth and Mara didn’t need the Force to know that the woman was genuine.  She could see why Luke had found comfort in her years earlier, and for the first time she wondered if Zelia had opened his heart slightly, proving that not all of his romantic entanglements were fated to end in disaster.  

“I also want to offer my congratulations,” Zelia added, leaning forward slightly in her chair and dropping her voice.  “I see you are expecting.”     

Mara was startled, staring dumbly at Zelia for a moment.  She was barely showing, and her loose clothing concealed even the slight roundness of her belly.   

“How did you know?”

“You’re the only person of age on this beach without a drink in their hand, and based on what I saw at Rogue’s party, you don’t abstain.”

Mara couldn’t help but laugh.  “Well, that’s true.”

“Don’t worry,” Zelia assured her, reaching forward to touch her hand.  “I won’t tell a soul.”

“Not even your husband to be?” Mara raised one sceptical eyebrow.

“Not if you don’t want me too,” Zelia said seriously.  “I grew up in the public eye too, I know how important a bit of privacy is.”

Mara waved her hand.  “Tell him if you think he can be discreet,” she said, knowing they’d have to make the announcement eventually - perhaps this holiday was their last chance to be truly alone with the knowledge.  

“Oh, he can,” Zelia nodded.  “Although it will make him very happy - he’ll already start thinking about how he’s going to play it in the holofilm.”

“Right.”  Mara sighed.  She’d not considered that every progression in their lives and marriage would now be committed to hololoid, albiet through an artistic filter.      

“Crís and I want children someday,” Zelia said, her light attitude quivering slightly as she looked down at her wine.  “Although I admit the prospect frightens me slightly.”

Mara cocked her head to one side, regarding Zelia curiously.  “Why is that?”

Zelia sighed, toying with her necklace.  “I suppose up until this point I've lead a rather...frivolous life, and the thought of someone being wholly dependent on me, their happiness and welfare my complete responsibility, the risk of failing them…”  She looked back up at Mara with a sudden anxiety.  

“I know what you mean,” Mara nodded, thinking back to her own misgivings. “I think Luke would say if you want it enough, and for the right reasons, the risk is worth it.”

“But you're the one who has to carry the child,” Zelia pressed. “What do you think?”

Mara gave it a few moment’s thought.  Her own childhood had been far from ideal, and she knew better perhaps than anyone else how it all could go wrong.  But she was also proof that such damage was reversible.  

“I suppose it’s about trusting yourself,” Mara said.  “And not being afraid of hard work.”

“Hard yakka,” Zelia responded with a smile.  “That’s what they call it here.”

Mara bit back a laugh.  “Of course they do.”

 

* * *

 

The following day Luke rented a speeder and took her down the coast.  Apparently he’d mentioned to Crís her dissatisfaction with the crowds, and had been given directions to a place she might find more palatable.  

It was a secluded bay, bracketed by a great rocky bluff on one side and rolling green hills on the other, ending in a steep cliff of black, jutting rocks. They made camp on the narrow strip of sand buffeted by vegetation, looking out over the blue ocean where white-crested waves broke against the rocks in the distance, and petered out on the sand before them.  

Mara sat down on the beach, the crashing ocean in her ears, the sun warm on her face as she took in the beautiful vista before her.  They were the only souls for one hundred kilometres.  

She reached for Luke’s hand, guiding him to sit down beside her.  “It’s perfect.”

“It is,” he agreed, the sun picking up the blonde in his hair.  “Different from anywhere else I’ve ever been.”

Mara nudged him lightly.   “I thought you'd be right at home here.”

“It's different,” he said again, fingers sifting through the sand. “On Tatooine it's baked by eons of harsh sun, but this sand is the work of the ocean. Look,” he held out a handful. “You can see the tiny pieces of shell and coral, broken down over thousands of years.”

She could see, the sand not homogenous and fine as it had been on the tourist beach, but made up of tiny, coarse granules of varying colours. Mara looked back out at the waves as they pounded down over and over again, compressing the seabed below.  She wiggled her feet into the sand, delighting in the coarseness against her skin.  

“How do you know such things?” Mara questioned him.  Her own education had been formal and extensive, but thoroughly Core-centric.  The beauty of the natural worlds of the galaxy had been considered ancillary and unimportant, and the more she travelled the more Mara realised just how inadequate and insular her upbringing had been.  

“I was alone a long time before we were married, Mara,” Luke said dryly.  “I read a lot.”  

 

* * *

 

They climbed the bluff, finding a path through the round rocks worn smooth by wind and rain and the hardy vegetation which had evolved to withstand both.

“Alright, clever boots,” she said as they climbed, pointing to the oddly shaped outcrop.  “Explain.”

Luke shot her a knowing grin, holding out his hand to help her up through a difficult incline.  “It’s crystallised granite,” he said.  “Forced upward from the planet’s core a millennia ago, the only rock on the coast hard enough to withstand erosion by the elements.”

“Hmmm.”  Mara could tell by his words that he planned to turn the phenomena into a Force lesson for his students back at the Academy.  “More reading?”

“The guidebook,” Luke admitted with the shrug.  “That was the geological explanation at least.”

“Is there another?”  Mara searched the incline before her which was covered in smooth rock.  She tested the area with one foot before stepping up, Luke following carefully behind her.  

“Well, the local legend has it that the coastline was once smooth like the beach further north,” Luke explained, and she felt his steadying hand on her back.  “And was home to the Celestial Antipodea.”

“After whom the planet is named, I assume.”

“Right,” Luke nodded, drawing level with her and taking her hand.  “He was a bit of a rogue, apparently, exiled by his kin and sent here where there was no sentient life for him to foster.  So instead he cultivated the land, intent on making his brothers and sisters so jealous of its beauty they would ask him back.  Instead they came to him, bringing colonies of humans and other beings.”

“And he didn’t like that?”

“No - careful of that brush, it’s poisonous - he was afraid that inhabitants would ruin his pristine world.  In his frustration, he beat his fists against the coastline here, breaking up the earth’s crust and causing the molten rock to burst upwards from the core.  See those boulders?”  Luke pointed to the smooth, round rocks that littered the bluff.  “They call them Antipodea’s tears - he cried until he was dust, and was blown out to sea.”

“It’s a nice story,” Mara conceded as they continued to climb.  “But Celestials again?” she rolled her eyes. “People looking to some great ancient race, trying to connect the universe?  It's nonsense.”

“I'm surprised you'd say that,” Luke teased and squeezed her hand. “Given your own recent ah, spiritual experience.”

Mara thought back to the cave on Kaurna - where the locals believed their deity lived. They'd counted back the days, and had determined that's where she'd conceived their child.

“You think the Serpent was a Celestial?”

Luke shrugged. “Maybe.”

Mara waved her hand. “Nonsense,” she said again.

“I once heard the Force called the same,” Luke countered.  “Is it really so hard to believe there are things about the universe we don't understand?”

“There are things about _you_ I don't understand,” Mara needled him. “Like why I'm here hiking instead of sunbaking on the beach.”

“Because you'll like this better - look.”  They had reached the top of the bluff, the great expanse of the ocean before them stretching all the way to the horizon.  Their beach was below, curled inward upon itself, concealed by hills and black granite cliffs which stretched onward, forming a wild and jagged coast.  The wild was stronger at their vantage point, whistling in her ears although she could still hear the powerful crash of the waves below.  Mara looked up at the clear blue sky which mirrored the ocean, the bright, hot sun beating down upon them.   

“Do you feel it?” Luke asked, arms embracing her from behind, voice soft and low in her ear.  “Something you can’t read about in books - something indescribable, that cannot be analysed or quantified.  Whether not the Celestials ever really exist outside stories, can’t you feel them just the same?”

He was talking about faith, Mara realised - faith in him, in their bond, to find comfort rather than fear in all that they did not know.  It was the same advice she’d given Zelia, although she had not thought of it in those terms, to find strength and resolve within oneself.  She leaned back into Luke’s arms, the power and beauty of her surroundings swelling something great inside of her.

“Yes.”

 

* * *

 

By the time they’d climbed back down to the beach it was late afternoon, but the sun was still warm and the exertion made the water even more enticing.  Mara stripped down into her swimsuit and Luke followed, discarding their clothes by the camp and making their way into the ocean.  It was cold but pleasantly so; salty powerful waves crashing around them, so different from the placid waters and crowded beach they’d visited the previous day.  

“Careful.”  Mara grasped Luke by the shoulder as he lost his footing when the powerful current pulled back out to sea.  “Don’t get caught in the rip.”

Luke’s hands pressed against her back and he laughed softly.  “How dangerous can it be?”

Another wave crashed over them, knocking them both under the water.  Mara broke the surface first, coughing and spluttering and Luke followed soon after.  She laughed, reaching out to pick a stream of seaweed from his shoulder.  

“Follow my lead, sand boy,” she told him, and they swum out into the bay, making sure they kept to the calmer side and avoided the jagged black rocks opposite.  Mara taught him how to use the wave, how to catch it in that perfect moment so it would carry him back to shore in an exhilarating rush.

Despite not being a strong swimmer he soon picked it up, the danger almost making it more exciting.  Let the other tourists keep the tepid, clear waters of the reef, Mara thought to herself as the sea crested behind her.  

She liked the wave.

 

* * *

 

The late afternoon sun still shone brightly, although it was losing some of its heat.  Luke stood on the far edge of the bay, where the black rocks formed a breakwater and the high cliffs rose behind him.  It was a dangerous spot, and Luke had to keep his balance with the Force to make sure he didn’t get swept away into the ocean.  But Crís had told him it was the best place to fish from, and had even lent Luke his fishing poles.  

Unfortunately, Luke was not a natural fisherman, and his efforts had not yielded results.  Frustrated, he abandoned the poles and instead reached out with his hand, using the Force to locate the barra fish Crís had advised was the tastiest in the waters.  Finding one, Luke flicked his wrist and plucked it up and out of the water.  It flung through the air and landed neatly in the cold box Luke had brought with him, flipping its gold tail.

_Not very sporting_.  Mara’s voice in his mind, and he turned back to the beach where she was sunbaking.  

_If you have moral objections you’re free not to eat it_ , Luke sent back with a teasing caress.  He felt Mara’s chuckle in the back of his mind and could see her settle back.  He caught another fish which he felt would be enough to feed them both that night, and made his way back to the camp, depositing the cold box near their tent.  

Mara was further down the beach, lying in the sand with nothing but her sunglasses.  With a quick Force sweep of the area, Luke determined that they were completely alone with no chance of being stumbled on.  He removed his own clothing and lay beside her, the sand accepting his weight rather well.

It was relaxing, he had to admit, the sun now making its way down towards the horizon.  Luke turned to his wife and propped his head up one hand so he could watch her.  Despite Mara’s hair being matted from their swim, the sun picked up the gold highlights amid the red and Luke reached forward to push back a stray lock from her face.  His fingertips lingered on her cheek, tracing a path down the column of her neck, between her breasts and circling around her bellybutton and cover the slight curve of abdomen before travelling upwards again.     

Her lips parted slightly and she let out a soft breath as he repeated the trek a few times, taking his time before palming her breast as a reward for her patience.  Sunglasses hid her eyes but he could feel her watching him, waiting.    

The next time his fingertips trailed lower and she bent her knee to allow him better access.  She whimpered slightly as he caressed her languidly, mindful of his own growing desire but contenting himself with building hers first.  

It didn’t take long - he knew just how to touch her and patience had never been one of his virtues.  Her breathing quickened, her chest rising and drawing attention to her pert nipples as they lifted towards the sky.  Never quite able to resist such an offering, Luke bent his head and took one into his mouth.  Mara’s hands dug into the sand and she whispered his name as his lips trailed lower, following the path his hands had forged.  

When he pressed his mouth against her she cried out, arching her back and pushing herself against him.  But Luke held her hips firm, intent in his purpose, delighting her with his lips and teeth and tongue.  His knees dug into the sand but the coarseness of it was oddly arousing and he stepped up his efforts, driving Mara closer to the edge as her body strained against him.

But then he felt her push against his shoulder, urging him to withdraw.  When he did Mara pushed Luke onto his back before mounting him, laying her body over his and kissing him fiercely.  She still wore her sunglasses, the frames digging into his cheek but that seemed of little importance as she rubbed her body against his aching member.  

“What would that Celestial think of the two of us,” she murmured against his lips, her hand slipping between their bodies to caress the length of him.  “Defiling his special beach?”

“Throw rocks down on us, I suppose,” Luke said, his voice strangled with desire.  She kissed him again, long and deep and hard.  Then she drew herself back up before guiding him inside her, and Luke grasped her hips with relief.  

Mara began to move, letting her head fall back as she moved her hips slowly.  “Worth it.”

He couldn’t disagree, pleasure uncoiling within him at the sight of her above him; red hair framed gold by the sinking sun, breasts bouncing slightly as she moved; at the feel of himself within her and the scratch of the sand against his skin.  The evening breeze played across their sweat-slicked bodies as they moved together, the sound of the ocean crashing around them as the tide came in.  It was primal and raw as she began to ride him in earnest, Luke gripping her hips and thrusting to meet her, his release fast approaching.  

“Take off your sunglasses,” he growled, wanting to see her eyes.  But Mara just laughed and shook her head, leaning back and resting her hands on his thighs so he could go deeper.  The changed position made quick work of both of them, Mara soon tensing above him and clenching around him, wrenching his release from him in a blinding wave of ecstasy.  

Luke let his head fall back against the sand, spent, only dimly aware of Mara collapsing bonelessly on his chest.  Water lapped at their ankles but he didn’t care, arms moving to embrace her, hands running lightly over her spine.  They were covered in sand, Mara’s hair was full of it and it clung like a second skin.  

“On Coruscant people pay good credits for this kind of exfoliating treatment,” Mara said, picking up on his thoughts, rubbing the sand into his chest.  

“By people, do you mean idiots?” Luke asked, for while it had been pleasant during their coupling he could tell it would soon become an irritant.  

Mara lifted her head and finally took off her sunglasses, tossing them in the sand beside them.  She gave him a knowing look, the corner of her mouth lifting into a smirk.  

“Farmboy, when I say people, I _always_ mean idiots.”  



End file.
